


Welcome to the Mansion

by WildClover27 (PrairieFlower)



Category: Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrairieFlower/pseuds/WildClover27
Summary: Garrison's Gorillas is not mine. The premise and characters are the property of the writers and Production Company that originated the show, or whomever they sold the rights to. Non-canon characters are my own. I expect not to see them in other people's works. This is an updated version of the introduction of Terry Garrison, the sister of Craig Garrison, in my universe.





	Welcome to the Mansion

Welcome to the Mansion

Chapter 1

There was an air of boredom in the English country mansion. The day was warm and there were at least a dozen better things the four male occupants of the main floor common room could have been doing instead of waiting for their commanding officer to return.

The tall, distinguished dark haired man seated in one the wingback chairs that flanked the fireplace laid the book he was reading on the end table. For once, he was unable to become engrossed in the classical novel he was trying to finish. There was dignity in the way he moved as he stood up and let himself out the front door and onto the landing. He stood at the top of the stone steps, breathing deeply of the fragrant air. The house had become too confining with the bickering of the other men, almost like prison. He stifled a shudder. The thought of prison sent a chill through his blood. A pipe was removed from the pocket of his Seville Row smoking jacket and a pouch of specially blended tobacco was set carefully on the plastered wall to his right. The building of a pipe was a ritual with the man; one that gave him time to think, time to gather his thoughts, and time to relax. Lighting the pipe with an engraved silver lighter, he tucked the pouch of tobacco back into the deep pocket it had come from. Eyes sweeping the area, they came to rest on a figure approaching up the driveway.

It was a woman, and a young one at that. The sunlight sparkled off goldish-auburn wavy hair which hung past her shoulders. She moved with an unconscious balance and grace, despite the obviously heavy suitcase she carried with ease. The tall man watched her with curiosity. She wore trousers in the new fashion he found so annoying and unfeminine, but this woman still had an air of femininity about her. 

It was most unusual to have someone walk onto the estate, and more especially someone of the female persuasion. He wondered if she was lost. Unsure why, he had the feeling she was not a local girl. This was besides the fact that the locals all knew the estate was off limits except for deliveries. Still maintaining the inborn dignity he possessed, the man moved down the steps and strolled casually out to meet her. 

She watched his approach, hiding her wariness. She had not expected anyone to be outside. Her free hand reached up to brush a stray strand of hair back behind her ear and her eyes studied the man. Although he had to be close to fifteen years older than her, he was still the handsomest man she had seen in a long time. His aristocratic features help her identify him as Actor. Craig had said he was big, but that did nothing to describe the real man. He had to be at least six foot four, broad shouldered, wide of chest, narrow hipped and having the longest legs . . . 

“Good afternoon,” said Actor in his rich, resonant voice with the Italian accent.

“Hello,” returned the girl with a smile she did not feel. “I’m looking for Lt. Craig Garrison.”

Actor cocked an eyebrow at this and the American accent. “I am afraid the Lieutenant is not here at the moment. Please allow me to take your bag. You will be much more comfortable to wait for him in the house.”

Terry politely inclined her head, handing the suitcase to him. This was a situation she had not foreseen. As far as she knew, Craig rarely left his men alone. That would mean the other three would be in the house without supervision.

As they walked up to the house, Actor asked, “What might your name be, Miss?”

“I’m sorry,” apologized the girl, “Terry . . . Teresa Garrison.”

Actor looked at her in undisguised surprise. “Garrison?”

“Yes,” said Terry, “I’m Lt. Garrison’s sister.”

“I see,” said Actor thoughtfully. “In that case you are most welcome to the Mansion, Teresa.”

“Thank you, Actor,” she returned. “You are the one called Actor?”

Actor turned on a charming smile. “That is correct. I hope that what you may have heard about me was not all bad.”

“On the contrary,” said Teresa, enjoying this. “I have heard much about your illustrious reputation.” He was the best confidence man, and ladies’ man in the business, in Europe and America.

Actor, quick to read a person, thought ‘why the little one is playing me at my own game.’ His curiosity was piqued, but he voiced no questions. What was the obviously younger American sister to their Lieutenant doing walking onto a somewhat secret military base in the English countryside, armed with enough information to be able to identify him by name? If she was visiting her brother, why had she not called him in advance?

Terry was feeling some misgivings for not calling her brother first. She knew not only Actor’s reputation, but that of Craig’s three other men. Hardened criminals all, they were not the ideal company for a country girl. But then, the girl reasoned wryly, she no longer fit into that category either.

Actor escorted her into the house, determined to protect her from the others if necessary. Despite her brave front, he doubted she was ready to take them all on alone. Besides, being the Lieutenant’s sister, if anything happened to her, the man’s anger would know no bounds.

Entering the house, Teresa quickly took in the huge, cold, paneled interior, so different from the unusual Mediterranean exterior. She would sure hate to heat this place. It looked like a museum . . . or a mausoleum. An elegant dark wooden stairway faced her, while to her left was a large room, complete with antique portraits in oil, built in cupboards, and a suit of armor. Not exactly a Garrison’s preferred style. There was a vintage sofa, two large chairs, and a gaming table in front of a tiled fireplace. Two men with playing cards in hand and spread before them were at the table, and another was sprawled in a chair in the far corner close to a window.

Goniff was the first to notice the girl as he glanced up from his hand of cards. “Cripes!” he exclaimed, “look wot Actor found!” The blond Englishman’s face lit up with a likeable grin as he appraised Teresa from head to foot.

The other two men in the room looked up. The same appraisal shown in their eyes. The smile was missing.

“Leave it to him to find a skirt. Where’d you pick her up, Actor?” asked the stocky, dark haired man at the table. “And are yuh gonna share?” 

Terry quickly decided to keep an eye on this one.

“Warden ain’t gonna like you bringing a dame in here.” The words were uttered quietly from the far corner.

“Gentlemen,” said Actor with more than a touch of disapproval in his voice, “may I present Miss Teresa Garrison, the Lieutenant’s sister.”

This revelation brought wary expressions to their faces. Actor took this opportunity to introduce the men to Teresa. She quickly connected dossier data to each name and face.

The second man at the table was Casino, the best safecracker in the Midwest and East Coast. He was also their demolitions expert. A tough, hard-nosed character, he was the roughest of the bunch.

The blond Goniff, a Cockney Englishman, was a jack-of-all-trades, second-story man, and pickpocket. His likeable demeanor belied the fact he would steal you blind without a second thought.

Sitting in the corner, cleaning a switchblade, was Chief. Silent most of the time, he was Chiricahua Apache. A murderer, he could use that switchblade as though it were an extension of him. He was their driver, scout, and hot car artist. Though younger than Teresa, his dark eyes seemed older.

Holding her head up, the girl returned their assessments. Outwardly, she seemed calm and unconcerned, having been taught the way to deal with men of this caliber was to show no fear. Inside, she was scared stiff. As if sensing this, Actor directed her to a chair at the table and sat across from her.

“Do you have any idea when Craig will be back?” she asked conversationally.

“Anytime now,” assured Actor.

“Why are you here?” asked Casino bluntly.

Terry turned to face him. “I’m here looking for my sister and brother. They’re missing.” Her tone said anything more was none of his business.

There was a too quiet silence as the others waited for the volatile safecracker’s reaction. Surprisingly, he shrugged it off.

Goniff popped up over-brightly, “You play poker?”

Terry looked at him, unable to keep from smiling. “Sure.”

Goniff grinned and Actor shook his head.

GGG

Lt. Craig Garrison, dark sandy haired, late twenties, and bearing little resemblance to his sister, was tired and bothered. Any meeting with his liaison officer, Major Percy Schaeffer, resulted in this. He wondered if the house would be in one piece when he got there, or if the men would even be there. He hated leaving them alone, but Kit Gallagher refused to let them in her bar. Their penchant for fighting had resulted in hundreds of dollars worth of damage the last time. The same held true for the nearer pub, The Doves. He pulled into the yard and parked the black Packard beside the army jeep. The house looked quiet. That was a bad sign. His men were never quiet, with the exception of Chief. 

His first thought was the men had taken off again. They could not have gone far if the jeep was still here. That would mean The Doves. Garrison wondered if they had been thrown in the stockade yet, and how much of a bill in damages they had run up. If they weren’t fighting each other, they were fighting whoever they could find.

No one paid a whole lot of attention when the Lieutenant entered the house. The inevitable poker game was in progress. Hardly giving it a cursory glance, Craig turned away. All of his errant men still here had to be a first. As he headed for his office, he stopped short and stared. A familiar suitcase blocked the stairs. He looked at it in disbelief.

“Terry?” he turned toward the group.

“See you, and raise you three,” came a feminine voice. “Hi Craig.”

Garrison walked closer and saw his younger sister concentrating on a poker hand. “Terry!” he thundered.

Terry looked up sourly. “Will you hold your horses? I’ve been waiting two hours. You can wait five minutes.” She turned her attention to the game.

Craig stood speechless. This was unbelievable. He returned out of the blue to find his sister, who was supposed to be in Washington, sitting playing cards with four men she wouldn’t ordinarily talk to. She was supposed to be in the States, not in war-torn England. And, most especially, not with his men.

Terry lay down her hand and watched the safecracker rake the money in with a grin. Shaking her head, she rose and went to hug her brother, oblivious to the four pair of eyes that watched the two of them. Craig was stiff with anger.

“Terry, what the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

Terry stepped back, surprised at his brusqueness. “I’m looking for Chris?”

Craig looked down at her with a puzzled expression. “Chris? Where’s Chris?”

Now it was Terry’s turn to be puzzled. “Didn’t you get Cinder’s letter?”

“What letter?” demanded Craig, hands on hips. “The last time I heard from home was four months ago. Everything was fine there. You’re supposed to be in Washington with Dad. What’s going on?”

Terry sighed, “Sit down. It’s a long story.”

Craig forgot himself and sat on the stairs. He took his hat off and laid it atop the suitcase. Terry leaned on the banister and began to explain. “Three months ago, Chris got word Nicky was killed in France. He was working for the O.S.S. Chris moped around for a couple weeks. Suddenly, she perked right up. A week later, she was gone, Kelly with her. They took off one night and never came back. They had to have help. They didn’t take a car. The train station in Midvale didn’t have a record of them boarding. Neither did the one in Cut Bank. We finally tracked them to New York, where a Crystal and Kelly Bradford registered for one night in a hotel. The next place we found them was one night in a hotel in London. From London, they disappeared completely. We think they are with the O.S.S. in France. Dad wasn’t able to get any information from O.S.S. and Donovan is too busy strutting all over Europe to be of any help.”

Craig frowned. “She wouldn’t take Kelly. He’s just a kid. I believe she’d do something like that. But take Kelly?”

“I can see it,” shrugged Terry. “Chris would refuse to give up her plans and Kelly would refuse to go home. A Mexican stand-off.”

Craig thought about it and it gave him sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “If those two are in France . . .” He shook his head. “They can’t take care of themselves.”

“Well,” said Terry, secretly agreeing with her brother, “if they’re with Nicky’s group, they’ll be watched out for.”

“God, I wish you two had never met up with the Bradfords!”

“Water under the bridge, Brother. Can’t change it now.”

Craig eyed his sister, “Just what do you expect to do here? Besides getting yourself killed.”

“See what I can find out from the O.S.S. and try to find any leads in London.”

Garrison made a face, “Couldn’t stay home could you?”

“Nope, or Washington either,” agreed Terry. “Got an extra room?”

“You are not staying here!” said Craig adamantly. “You can go stay with Kit.”

“Uh – not really,” hedged Terry. “Kit’s living with Shiv.”

“What?” said Craig shortly.

“You heard,” replied Terry. “My presence would not be welcome. And even if it was, I’m sure that would not be acceptable.” She gave her brother a pointed look which he returned with disgust.

“Just how did Shiv end up here?”

“With the money I gave him to get him out of the States and out of Dad’s reach,” replied Terry casually. “How was I supposed to know when you got out of North Africa they’d station you here of all places? I figured they’d have you closer to London.”

“Apparently the army did not want us too close to London.” Garrison flicked his eyes toward the table behind his sister.

Terry turned her head and looked back at three faces with insincere grins. Chief’s stoic expression never changed. It was all the girl could do not to laugh.

“You still can’t stay here!”

Terry’s eyes went back to her brother. “Ye – ah, I can.”

Craig looked at her sharply.

Terry hurried on. “We have to talk . . . in private.”

“There’s more?” It was more of a resigned statement than a question.

“Just a couple things.”

“I’m not going to like it, am I?”

Terry grinned broadly, “Probably not.”

“Outside.” Garrison stood and turned to his very attentive men. “And you stay out of it!”

“Of course,” agreed Actor reasonably. “It sounds like a family matter.”

Terry almost laughed out loud at that but was able to contain herself. Actor did not miss the sparkle in her eyes. If she did stay, it might prove to be very interesting. He watched Garrison escort his sister out the front door.

Craig led Terry down the stairs and took a seat on the bottom step. “Okay, spill it.”

Terry sat down beside him and accepted a cigarette, waiting for him to light it and his before she spoke. “You remember our dear neighbor, Col. Cummings?”

Garrison nodded, his inner radar sensing trouble.

Terry inhaled and blew out smoke. “He’s now Gen. Cummings. He got his hands on your file. He’s been in contact with some British twit, name of Major Schaeffer, who has been telling him your group is more trouble that it’s worth.” Now she had Craig’s attention. “They want your group disbanded and the guys put back in prison.”

Garrison was getting angry. Coldly, he said, “Go on.”

Terry looked at him. “Dad and I know this is your pet project. We know that it is pretty much working. And we know you don’t want it to fail. So, Dad decided he would send me to check up on you and your men, under the guise of looking for Chris and Kelly. So, I am to stay in your little hotel here.”

Garrison digested that in silence. Without a word, he stood up. Terry followed him into the house. He picked up her suitcase with a bit of extra force and led her up the stairs.

“Is she staying,” questioned a Cockney voice.

“For now,” was the terse response. “At least she can cook. Maybe this way we’ll keep a cook around for more than a week.”

The room she was given was surprising light and airy compared to the living room. A small diamond-paned window opened up to a view from the front of the house. She tested the bed and found the mattress comfortable. There was no closet, but there was a large armoire. Craig left her alone and returned to his men. As Terry unpacked, she thought about her brother.

She was shocked at how Craig had changed. He had been as wild as the rest of the kids. This stern man was not her brother. She supposed war changed people, but she hadn’t thought about it affecting Craig. And there was the matter of the part of his dossier that had been erased. That could explain a few things too.

Terry had kept in touch with their adopted brother, Monty. He was in a bomber squadron in the air force. There had been little change in him. He was still the same ‘wild Indian’ she had grown up with. He was stationed outside of London. She had been flown into London but had not had time to try to find him. A car had not been waiting for her and she had basically gotten a ride with a corporal who was heading for Portsmouth as a courier. He had let her out at the bottom of the long drive and continued on his way.  
Terry opened the window and sat one hip on the sill. The trees were just starting to change color. In the distance she could hear heavy planes, the only thing showing there was a war going on here. That had to be Archbury, where ironically, another neighbor from home, Col. Joe Gallagher, was stationed. Craig, Shiv and Joe, all together in close proximity purely by coincidence.

The door opened without a knock and Craig came back in. He had changed out of formal uniform and into uniform pants and shirt. Silent, he sat on the bed and watched his sister. She didn’t say anything. Craig leaned back against the headboard and swung crossed booted legs up on the bed.

“How is everybody?” he asked.

“Okay, I guess,” said Terry. “Mom’s let Cinder take over the ranch. They’re barely breaking even. Had to let the hired hands go.” She moved to lounge in a chair. “I didn’t get a chance to go home before being sent over here.”

“Just how much clearance do you have?” asked Craig. That she had been sent to stay with him and his men meant she had a hefty amount of it.

“Hate to say it, Brother, but I have more clearance than you,” admitted Terry. “Civilian. Anyway, Dad doesn’t like it there. He wants to be over here.”

Craig shook his head. “He got promoted one time too many.” Abruptly he changed the subject. Their father was a sore topic with both of them. “What are you supposed to do if you find out where Chris and Kell are?”

Terry looked at him, “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” She nodded toward the door. “How are they really working out?”

Craig looked sour. “We’ve proved it’s a good idea, but you can’t trust them for a minute. Keep a tight rein on them constantly or they’ll stab each other in the back…probably literally.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t rebelled before now,” remarked Terry. “Weren’t they told it was just one mission then they’d get their pardons? It’s been five months now.”

“They’re too valuable to turn loose,” said Craig. “We need them. They’re the only ones that can do this type of work.”

“That’s because they’re being blackmailed,” said Terry, cynically.

Craig looked at his sister in interest. “Whose side are you on?”

Terry replied seriously, “I don’t know yet.” She eyed her brother, “Whose side are you on?”

Relations the rest of the day were strained. The men watched Terry, sizing her up. She watched them, not trusting them for a minute, but curious to see what they were like as individuals.

The girl began her duties right away, going in the kitchen to cook dinner for five men and herself. The refrigerator was almost bare. In the butler’s pantry were boxes of k-rations. Spam. She did the best she could with it but didn’t like it and knew the men weren’t happy with it either. 

After cleaning up the kitchen and dining room, she wandered into Craig’s office without knocking. Garrison looked up at her and Actor turned in his chair to see who had entered. Terry stopped short.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” She turned to go.

“Wait,” said Craig. “Come back here. I want to talk to you.” 

Terry stepped closer. Actor rose and offered her his chair across from Garrison. He pulled a straight chair away from the conference table and sat back down beside her.

Craig eyed the girl. “I don’t get much money,” he said, much to Actor’s surprise. “Did you bring any with you?”

Terry shrugged, “Some, not much, why?”

“We’re sick of Spam.”

Terry grinned. “I can’t imagine why. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a farm market on Wednesday mornings in Brandonshire,” said her brother. “Do you think you could try to find some real food to cook?”

“I probably could,” nodded Terry, “but, all I have is American. Do they take that here?”

Craig shook his head. “You might be able to exchange it at the bank in Brandonshire.”

Actor reached into his right pants pocket and pulled out a thick padding of folded bills in a money clip. “Lieutenant, to make things easier, I would be very willing to contribute to this little venture, if she is willing to obtain and cook something other than k-rations.”

Garrison shook his head. “I can’t let you do that, Actor.”

Terry raised an eyebrow in the direction of her brother. “If I have to eat that stuff too,” she said, “I have no problem ‘borrowing’ from him.”

Her hand went out, palm up toward the confidence man.

The big Italian chuckled and removed several bills from the money clip, placing them in the open palm. “Real meat, please, if you can get it” he instructed with a smile. “Nothing in a can.”

“Vegetables?”

“Fresh, of course.”

“Of course,” grinned the girl up at the big man. She turned back to her brother. “So where is Brandonshire?”

Craig grinned. “Down the driveway and turn left. Keep going. You can’t miss it. Just remember to stay on the left side of the road.”

With a smile Terry stood up. “Thank you, Gentlemen. I will let you get back to your conversation. It’s been a long flight and long day.”

As the sun was rising the next morning, Terry liberated the car keys and “borrowed” the Packard. Farm markets opened early and she would have to find this one. On the backseat was a wicker basket she had found in the butler’s pantry. At the end of the drive, she turned left into what was to her, the wrong lane. It was odd driving this way, moreso because the Packard was American with the steering wheel on the left. 

The drive was beautiful on the two-lane rural road that went between green fields and pastures lined with hedgerows. Misty ground fog was rising from the hollows and dips. The town of Brandonshire was quaint and what Terry had pictured in her mind as typically British. The narrow street was curvy through blocks of one and two story buildings, some attached and some freestanding. 

She was looking for a drinking establishment called the Blue Fox and the farmer’s market. The girl found something else first.

Walking bold as brass down the near deserted sidewalk was the slightly built, blond Englishman known as Goniff. He spotted the Packard and stopped, watching warily. Terry pulled up to the curb and opened the passenger door. Cautiously, he got in.

“Warden send you after me?” he asked, surprised. It would be more likely the MPs would have shown up.

“No,” answered Terry. “I don’t think he knows you’re gone. How’d you get here?” Craig was ‘Warden’? Well, she supposed it was fitting in a way.

“Hitched a ride in the back o’ a lorry,” said Goniff matter-of-factly.

Terry wondered what he was doing here. Anticipating this, he grinned and pulled something out of his pocket. Terry held out her hand to receive the largest emerald ring she had ever seen. She didn’t quite know what to do with it.

“Where’d you get this?” she asked.

Goniff grinned proudly, “I heisted it.”

Terry swallowed hard and handed it back to him. “For heaven’s sake, put it back where you got it.”

Goniff shrugged, “I got to keep in practice, you know.”

Terry looked at him sharply, “Can you put it back?”

“Sure,” replied Goniff offhandedly. “The shop doesn’t open for another two hours.”

“Well go put it back,” said Terry. “I’ll wait for you here.”

Goniff gave her a calculating look, then pocketed the jewel and got out of the car. Terry watched him disappear down the street. Her mouth was cottony, her palms sweaty. She was sure the police would pop up at any second.

After what seemed like hours but was only ten minutes, Goniff returned and slid into the front seat beside her. She stared at him, not knowing if he had the ring or not.

Goniff looked at her frankly and said simply, “It’s back.”

For some reason she believed him.

“Wot are you doing ‘ere?” asked Goniff. “’Specially at this ‘our?”

“I wanted to check out the town, look for the Blue Fox and get groceries. Craig said there was some kind of farm market here this morning.” She looked at Goniff. “Now that we’re both here, want to come along?”

“Sure,” he grinned. “I’ll give you the ten-cent tour.”

Terry started the car and let Goniff direct her through town. He took her first to the Blue Fox, which of course was closed. Terry noted with some interest that the bar was located directly across the street from the two story, former hotel that was now G-2 headquarters. From there, they went to the far side of town, where the street was blocked off and there were vendors lining both sidewalks. 

Terry parked and retrieved the basket from the back seat. Goniff came around, took her by the hand and led her into the market area. Not knowing what to expect from him, she decided it was okay and let him lead on. He kept up a constant patter of joking, teasing, and making low funny comments about things they saw. Terry just could not help liking the Englishman.

They did a circle up and down the street, comparing the offerings. Some of the vegetables were rather poor, but still edible. Interspersed were booths with fine cuts of meat, seafood, and exotic offerings.

Terry leaned to Goniff’s ear. “Do some of these people know there is a war on? There’s caviar and tins of escargot for cryin’ out loud.”

“Black market,” said Goniff simply. “By the way, do you need money?”

“No!” said Terry, adamantly. “I got some from, um, Craig last night. For heaven’s sake don’t go rob a bank.” 

“Not me style,” assured Goniff. As she relaxed, he said, “That’s Casino’s thing.”

Terry turned to look at him with a sucked in cheek. “Remind me not to go anywhere with him.”

“Don’t worry,” said Goniff, gleefully. “’E wouldn’t take you.” She probably weren’t his type.

“Good.”

Terry proceeded to buy fresh meat, vegetables, bread, eggs and other staples. She tried to avoid the black market stands, but sometimes there was just no getting around it. Satisfied with her purchases, she turned to head back to the car and discovered Goniff had disappeared. She stood, searching the crowd, but could not spot the blond quicksilver man. Finally, she decided she was back on her own and returned to the car.

Goniff was leaning against the side of the car, a single red rose in his hand. He straightened and smiling brightly, held it out to her. Slowly she accepted it.

As if reading her mind, he said, “I paid for it.”

Terry smiled, relieved. “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, Love.”

Goniff took her basket and packages and deposited them on the backseat of the car. He opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in and he shut her door, walking around the front of the car, whistling. Getting behind the wheel, he drove them back to the house.

Pulling up in the car park, Garrison was there to meet them. They both casually got out of the car and started retrieving packages.

“All right!” barked Craig.

“What?” asked Terry, innocently.

“What happened?” he demanded angrily.

Terry raised an eyebrow. “Nothing happened. I went to Brandonshire to do some shopping. You gave me the money last night. Goniff rode with me.”

Craig’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, “Come on.”

Terry seemed to bristle. With more than a touch of sarcasm she said, “Well you didn’t offer to take me. I don’t know my way around here yet. At least Goniff was nice enough to go with me.”

Actor, who had come up behind Garrison at the first sign of trouble, stifled a laugh. The girl was lying. He knew it. She wasn’t bad. With a little help, she might turn into something.

Garrison looked back and forth between his sister and the Englishman. Terry was glaring at him in her old defiant manner. Goniff was trying to stay away from the two spatting siblings.

Actor stepped around Craig and stood before Terry, blocking her from her brother. He gallantly took the basket from her, giving her an amused wink. “I trust you would like this in the kitchen?”

“Yes, thank you,” replied Terry, not acknowledging Actor’s gesture.

Somehow, she felt she had just taken a giant step in the wrong direction. It was a step up in Goniff’s eyes, grateful for her cover. And further fuel for Actor’s speculation on the abilities of the lieutenant’s sister.

Craig remained at the car, silently watching his sister and his two men innocently going up the steps into the house. Not a one of the three was innocent. Not for the first time, Lt. Garrison thought it was going to be a long war.

In the kitchen, Goniff and Actor set the packages on the counter. Goniff quickly planted a kiss on Terry’s temple. “Thanks, Love. I owe you.”

Terry turned her head to glare at him in guilty frustration.

Actor was grinning openly at her distress. “Welcome to our little family, Teresa.”

“Oh, get outta here . . . both of you!”

Actor laughed outright. The smile that twitched the corners of Terry’s mouth belied the tone of her voice. Goniff skipped out of the kitchen, followed by a more sedate Actor.

Craig walked in the door to see Actor’s grinning face. He gave the older man a ‘now what?’ look.

“She is a little spitfire,” said Actor with amusement.

Craig shook his head, “You didn’t grow up with her.” He looked at Actor, “What am I going to do with her?”

“Nothing,” advised Actor. “She’ll be fine here.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” muttered Craig.

Chapter 2

That afternoon, Terry returned to Brandonshire. This time the Blue Fox was open. There was nobody at the bar and only one couple in one of the far booths. Terry studied the room. A large oak bar extended along the left wall, behind which were shelves of every liquor imaginable. Booths lined the front wall. Around the room were scattered tables and chairs. A dance floor lined the back wall. The walls were paneled and the wood a rich dark brown. It looked rather like what she thought a British pub should look like.

Terry walked around the bar, located a refrigerator and extracted a bottle of coca cola. Opening it with a nearby bottle opener, she hopped onto a bar stool and waited for someone to appear.

A few minutes later, footsteps alerted her that someone was coming from behind the curtained doorway to the back. She sat watching a medium height, red-haired girl emerge from the curtains.

Kit Gallagher saw her childhood friend and a small smile came to her face. Her casual actions belied the fact that she hadn’t seen Terry in more than a year.

“I figured you’d find your way to England sooner or later,” she remarked.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun,” returned Terry.

Kit laughed, “Where are you staying?”

“With Craig,” Terry sipped her soda.

This revelation brought a startled reaction from Kit. “You’re living in the same house as the Gorillas?”

Terry fixed her with a quizzical look, “the what?”

“The Gorillas,” repeated Kit. “Craig’s men.”

Terry raised her eyebrows at the name. “Yes, I’m staying with Craig’s men.”

“You’re nuts” said Kit in awe.

“Well, I understand things are a little crowded at your place.”

Kit looked uncomfortable. “Yes, you might say that. How did you know?”

Terry was amused at her friend’s discomfort. “I sent him here didn’t I?”

Kit sighed in relief. Terry had lived with Shiv in New York until her family broke things up and her father and Craig had hauled her to Washington. When things got too hot for Shiv in his business ventures, Terry had given him money to come to England. 

Terry grinned, “Where is the dear boy?”

“He’s not here right now.” Kit was bursting with curiosity. “What are you doing here?”

Grimly, Terry filled her in on the disappearance of her siblings. Kit listened in disbelief. It had always been the Gallagher clan that pulled the crazy stunts. Of course, the Garrison’s had never been far behind in that field.

Terry looked around the bar again. “So how do you stay open with no customers?”

Kit looked at her watch. “It’s only four o’clock. Wait until shift change across the street at six. The place will be busting at the seams.”

The door opened off the street to admit a tall, broad shouldered man. In the time it took for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, Terry studied the man she hadn’t seen in almost a year. The few strands of gray in the blond curls had changed to a gray smattering. Though the same age as her older brother, Jake Bradford’s blue eyes had a much older look. 

Shiv caught sight of Terry and in the brief silence a look of old friendship passed between the two. Kit watched in growing apprehension. She had a relationship with the man that could easily be terminated if he and Terry decided to resume their previous relationship.

“Well,” said Shiv with studied casualness, “I know what I’m doing here. So what are you doing here?”

Terry cracked a grin, “I came to check up on how you were doing.”

“Better here than New York,” came back Shiv, amused. “Want to try again?”

Terry repeated her story. By the end, Shiv was frowning. When she told him about her living arrangements the frown turned to disapproval.

“Terry, you really should get out of there,” he said.

“I can’t,” replied Terry.

“Why not?”

“Reasons,” she relied vaguely.

“What kind of reasons?” persisted Shiv.

“Reasons I can’t even discuss with you.”

Shiv gave her a steady look, raised his eyebrows and backed down. Terry returned the look unflinchingly.

“’Ey, Kit!”

The three turned to look at a young sandy-haired woman who had appeared at the curtains. She gave Terry the once over and turned perceptibly cool.

“I need your help,” she continued. “A problem with the inventory.” Her accent was broad cockney. She ran a close second to Goniff.

“Yeah,” replied Kit, tense. She disappeared with the girl.

Terry watched the spot they had gone through for a moment, and then turned back to Shiv. Softly she said, “Jake, I really am sorry about Nicky.”

“Yeah, well, kid brother was always too wild for his own good.” He looked sadly at Terry. “I’m sorry Crystal and Kell got mixed up in this.”

“So am I,” said Terry. “Can you get hold of Tinker or Dirk?”

Jake Bradford shook his head. “No. Nicky and I got into it when he started with that mess. We were not on speaking terms and I don’t know where his men are.”

Terry nodded, “I didn’t think it would be that easy.”

Shiv looked hard at Terry. “Are you really intending to stay with Craig’s hoods?”

“Yup,” came the reply.

Shiv sighed in resignation. When Terry reached a decision, it was almost impossible to dissuade her from it. It seemed to be a Garrison family trait. “Do you still have a boot sheath?”

“Always,” replied Terry.

Shiv placed his foot on the rung of her barstool and extracted something from his boot. He slipped it into Terry’s hand. She looked down at the familiar pearl handled switchblade, and put it into the sheath in her right boot. She did not relish the thought of maybe having to use it.

“Listen, Terry,” Shiv said, “if you run into trouble call me. Remember, I owe you one.”

“Hopefully I’ll never have to collect,” she said. “I need to get back. I’ve got Craig’s car. An I have to make dinner for the group.”

She slipped off the barstool and squeezed his arm as she headed for the door. He watched her back with a worried expression.

GGG

Terry had told Garrison earlier there were things that could not be obtained at the farm market. She needed staples; flour, oil, salt, and milk. Out of nowhere, ration coupons appeared. Garrison just looked skyward in supplication. How his men obtained ration coupons was beyond him. And he probably did not want to know.

So, the girl followed Goniff’s directions to a small grocery store and made a few more purchases. She noted that prices were even higher than at home, probably from lack of availability. About as satisfied as she could get, she returned to the Mansion as it was called.

Supper was fashionably late that evening, but she was encouraged by the sniffs and grins when she placed a big pot of steaming stew on a hot pad atop the dining room table. The grins got even bigger when she next brought out a basket with hot American-style biscuits. 

“Sawdust?” asked Casino warily.

“I don’t bake with sawdust,” replied Terry indignantly. “Of course, I can’t do much about the coffee.” Or the scarceness of sugar. She had tried saccharine tablets before and thought they were awful.

She ladled a small portion of the stew in a bowl and took a seat between Actor and Casino. And maybe nobody noticed she edged a little closer to the confidence man than the safecracker. Used to having meat on the ranch, the knowledge that the amount of finely cubed meat in the pot was disguised by the gravy and vegetables bothered the girl. Terry had noticed how thin the men were. Casino looked stocky but wasn’t. Goniff was slight to begin with. Chief could have used a couple more pounds and Actor was downright lanky for his height. She had gotten a hug from her brother and felt his ribs. Next to them, she felt fat. Thus, began a careful portioning of her food to give the men even a bite or two more.

“This is delicious, Teresa,” said Actor with appreciation.

“Thank you. You don’t have to be formal. I’m Terry.”

The con man lifted an eyebrow at her. “I am not being formal. Your name is Teresa and I will call you that.” The name was spoken with the Italian pronunciation.

Terry looked down the table at her brother.

Craig stifled a smile. “If you’re here long enough, you’ll get used to it.”

GGG

Things went along somewhat smoothly for the next couple weeks. The men went on missions that lasted for forty-eight hours at the most and had a couple days of down time in between. Terry continued to make three meals a day for them and had snacks ready when they returned, usually in the middle of the night. As the girl and the cons spent more time around each other, the tension seemed to lessen. That between her and her brother did not ease up quite as quickly, but at least they were talking to each other.

One day, Terry entered his office, closed the door, and took a seat in the chair in front of his desk.

Garrison looked up and frowned, leaning back in his chair and setting down his pencil by the pad of paper he was writing on. “Is there a problem?”  
He watched a similar frown cross her features. “Yes. No. Maybe.”

“All right, what is it?”

Terry sucked in a cheek before replying. “I have been very careful with the money Actor gave me for groceries. But I’m about out and I need to buy more supplies unless we want to go back to rations.”

Craig eyed her. “I never asked. Is the Army paying you?”

Terry chuckled cynically. “Are you kidding? Of course not. They don’t want me on their books.”

Craig pushed his chair back, went to the picture of King George on the wall behind his desk and swung it out to reveal a wall safe. Terry’s eyebrows rose. The officer worked the dial and opened the door on the safe. He removed an envelop and thumbed through the bills inside. With a sigh, he removed all the money, put the empty envelop back, shut the door, spun the dial and put the picture back in place. Walking over to the girl, he handed the money to her. He went back around his desk and sat down.

“Will that be enough? It’s all I have right now.” Garrison would not see a payroll check for another two weeks.

Terry thumbed through the bills and mentally added the amount to the little bit she had left of Actor’s money. She looked up.

“It will do for a week or two, if I’m really careful and cut back even more on the food,” she said. “What do I do? Mix it with rations?”

“Do whatever you have to do, Terry. We’re all spoiled now with you cooking real food. But if you have to go back to rations, they’ll just have to live with it.” And he would too. 

“I need a job,” lamented the girl.

“Well, you just got the last of my money, so I can’t hire you,” said Garrison with a smile.

Terry grinned. “I can still type your reports for you, gratis,” she said. “I have clearance and I do know how.”

“I may take you up on that.”

“Holler when you have some for me.”

Craig watched his sister stand and pocket the money. She went back out into the common room and left his door open. 

Actor looked up from his book at the silent girl standing beside his chair. 

“Excuse me,” she said quietly. “Could I have a word with you in private?”

Private? This might prove interesting. He gestured with the pipe stem in his left hand down the short hall behind his chair.

“Step into my office.”

The only thing down there was a supply room and the library/map room. The library seemed more the elegant man’s style than the supply room, so Terry headed for it. Actor placed the ribbon between the pages of his book and set it, with his pipe on the side table. He rose and followed the girl to the library. She was facing the door waiting for him. 

“Shut the door,” she said.

Actor closed the door quietly. “Aren’t you afraid for your reputation?”

“I don’t have a reputation to be afraid for,” said Terry, off-handedly. “Craig and our father took care of that a year ago.”

Actor stared at her. Nothing more was forthcoming so he asked, “What would you like to discuss?”

The girl looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I can’t pay you back yet,” she said.

“Pay me back for what?” he asked curiously.

“The money you loaned me for food,” she replied. “I really need to get a job.”

Actor thought he understood the problem. “Do you need more money for food?” he asked, reaching into his right pants pocket.

She held her hand up palm toward him to stop him. “No, please. I can’t accept anymore money from you. What you gave me before is appreciated, but I can’t accept anymore.”

That was a novelty. Women always wanted money from him, or jewelry or furs. Some expensive little trinket.

“How much money do you have left?” Actor asked, removing his hand from his pocket.

“About ten pounds of yours.” She shrugged. “Craig just gave me all of his.”

“And how long will that last?”

“Maybe a week or two if I combine real food with k-rations.”

Actor looked at her with disgust on his face. “I would much rather you accept my funds than go back to Spam with pork and beans.”

“I know,” she said, “but I can’t accept any more from you. Not until I’m able to replay what you loaned me.”

Actor shook his head. “Perhaps if you viewed it from a different perspective,” said the Italian. “You are not using the money strictly for yourself, you are using it to feed all of us. That gives me a vested interest in it. I am paying for meals for all of us. That should make it acceptable.”

“Maybe,” said the girl, “but it doesn’t. I can’t help it. It’s the way I was brought up. And I will pay you back.”

Actor shook his head. Proud and stubborn, like the Lieutenant. “If you change your mind, or the complaining about rations becomes too much, just ask and I will be happy to lend more money to the cause. It is no hardship to me, you know.”

Terry smiled. “Thank you, Actor. You’re really a good man.”

Actor looked at that in surprise. “Teresa, you do not know me, or you wouldn’t say that.”

He turned and left the room. ‘Good man?’ He did not think he had ever been called that. It made him a little uneasy. He knew what he was. And he was comfortable with what he was. As he took his seat, Casino looked at him with a mix of curiosity and distrust.

“What was that all about?” asked the safecracker. 

It got the attention of the other two men. Actor shook his head and held a finger up to caution the men not to say anything right then. The girl walked into the common room and was just past Garrison’s office when the Lieutenant called out to her.

“Terry? Do you really want to type for me?”

The girl turned back and went into the office. “Sure. You don’t have a corporal to type it. Dad has Lt. Martin and he overloads him, so I picked up some of the typing. Dad was satisfied.”

Actor waited until the girl was fully into the office and motioned the other men to go upstairs to the common room. One by one they went up the stairs.  
In the common room they all took a seat at the game table.

“What’s goin’ on?” asked Casino.

“Teresa does not have an income. We know the Warden doesn’t get enough from the Army to call an income. Teresa is low on funds and will not accept any more from me.” 

He looked around the table. Chief had winnings from dart games at the Doves. Casino had winnings for poker games at the same establishment. And Goniff was probably broke from losing to Casino and drinking up what was left.

“We will be going back to rations soon.”

Chief eyed him, blade open in his hands, but in a non-threatening way. “So, what do you suggest?” 

Actor gave a crooked grin. “Perhaps if we pooled our money together and I presented it to the Warden, he could talk Teresa into accepting it. That way we could continue to eat in a style I would be happy to become accustomed to.”

“What did ‘e say?” asked Goniff of Casino.

Casino rolled his eyes. “If we each throw money into the kitty, we might get to keep eating real food.”

The slight pickpocket looked appalled. “But I don’t ‘ave no money right now.”

“That’s all right for now,” said Actor in appeasement. “Just remember after the next mission to take some out for food before you drink it all.”

“Wot do I look like? A lush?”

“Yeah,” agreed Casino.

“Enough,” said Actor sharply, to head off a fight.

“I gotta go get mine,” said Chief, getting up and putting the blade back into his wrist holster.

Casino pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and counted out about half. He shoved it across the table to Actor. “That enough for starters? I can probably get more the next time we go to the Doves.”

Actor was satisfied with the amount, knowing he was going to pad the pile more before going to visit with Garrison. Chief returned and dropped another small pile of bills in front of the con man. It was about half of Casino’s contribution, but still, it would be enough for a while longer.

They went back downstairs and continued what they had been doing. An hour later, Garrison came out of his office and headed toward the kitchen. Actor got up slowly and followed him. The Lieutenant was pouring himself another cup of ersatz coffee.

“Warden,” began Actor leaning against the counter. “We had a little conference.”

Craig looked at him warily. “Another one of your little conferences? Now what?”

“Teresa refused an offer of more funds from me for food. I believe it is a Garrison trait.” The Lieutenant had adamantly refused to receive a cut of the booty they came back from missions with. “We pooled our money and would like you to give it to Teresa. Perhaps you could talk her into accepting it.”

Craig could not stifle a grin. It wasn’t always he got an opportunity to get one on the haughty confidence man. “You mean you finally found a woman you couldn’t talk into something?”

“As I said,” Actor parried back, “a Garrison trait. Besides, she is too young for my charming personality.”

Garrison had just taken a sip of coffee and almost choked on it with laughter. “Yes, well, you just better keep your charms to yourself. She is my sister.”

“Really, Lieutenant, she is not my type of woman. I prefer them more sophisticated.”

“Okay,” Craig let him off the hook. “How much do you have?”

Actor removed a roll of bills from his pocket and handed it across the corner of the kitchen table. Garrison set his coffee cup on the table and unrolled the bills, counting them. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Please accept our apologies,” said the confidence man. “We expect to get more in the next week if we have a safe to open and we may visit the Doves for a night or two.”

This was more than Craig expected from his other three men. Still, it would be real food. “Okay, I’ll give it to her.”

Taking his coffee cup, Craig went back into his office. Terry was just finishing up a report and he tossed the money on his desk beside her arm. He watched the frown and wary eyes that looked up at him.

“Is that from Actor?” she asked

“Actor and the others. None of them want to eat rations either.”

Terry swiveled the chair so she was facing her brother. “Where do they come up with that kind of money?”

“Breaking into safes.”

“It’s hot?”

“Not exactly,” replied Garrison, enjoying the look on the girl’s face. “When Casino breaks into a safe on a mission, I let him keep any money or jewelry that’s in it. It would never be returned to its rightful owner after the war, even if the rightful owner was still alive. It’s better with them,” he tipped his head toward the common room, “than the Germans. Don’t you think?”

“I suppose. So how do the others get their money. Casino is the only one opening safes, isn’t he?”

“Yes. The divide it up between all of them. Then they go to the Doves and play poker and darts. Casino cheats and nobody can beat Chief at darts.”

“Larcenous little group, aren’t they,” said Terry with a grin.

“Well, they didn’t end up in prison by being on their best behavior.”

“True.” She picked up the money, rolled it up, and stuffed it into her bra. 

GGGG

Craig and the men were sent on a mission in France, leaving Terry alone at the mansion for a week. She took the opportunity to get firmly settled in. Her goal for the present was to make herself indispensable to them. That way, Craig was less likely to kick her out.

Mornings, she tackled G-2 and the O.S.S. for any information on her missing siblings. Afternoons, she cleaned the house up, washed clothes and mended them. She had to turn a wry eye on these activities. She had not come to England with the intentions of becoming a housekeeper. If this was what it took to stay here though, she wasn’t going to knock it. Boy, those men were tough on their clothes. Rips, tears and holes on all of them with the exception of the tall, Italian confidence man, Actor. He must be the sedentary type, not into the bar fights she had heard about from her brother.

Evenings she drove into Brandonshire and took up her new job bartending at the Blue Fox. Kit had been dubious of her ability to mix drinks until Shiv reminded her Terry had tended bar at their speakeasy in the lower west side of New York. 

Early one morning, Terry let herself out the back door of the Mansion. There was a brick-walled back garden, with rose bushes along the wall of the house. The grass was over her knees. Ruins of some structure was by the right wall. She shook her head. It was a shame the garden had gone to ruin.

A half-hidden grayed wooden shed was buried between two willow trees. Curiosity made Terry wade over to it. The door creaked on rusty hinges. Inside was an assortment of gardening tools, most rusty. Her face lit into a smile as her eyes came to rest on a scythe. The blade was dull, but that could be remedied.

An hour later, she was hard at work cutting the tall grass. She piled it into a wheelbarrow and took through the almost hidden gate beside the shed and dumped it into the woods. Then, she went over the yard with the lawnmower. All this took most of the day.  
Terry quit in the late afternoon. She sat in the two inches of water in the bathtub for an hour, reading one of Actor’s books. He tended toward the classics. There was also an extensive library on a variety of subjects from the arts to military strategy to medicine. She had noticed they were in five different European languages. 

Getting her second wind, she climbed into clean clothes and drove into Brandonshire. The Blue Fox was more populated than when she had been there the first time. There were some locals, and a lot of uniforms. It was a combination of British and American. Even so, Terry thought there should have been more patrons at that time of day.

Kit was tending bar when she sat down. The redhead plunked down an open bottle of Coca Cola. She grinned at her girlfriend.

“What have you been up to?”

Terry grinned back, “Domestic work.”

“You?” Kit cocked an eyebrow. “Josie could never get you to do it at home.”

“I had the horses at home,” countered Terry. She changed the subject. “Hey, I need a set of wheels. I can’t have the Packard all the time.”

Kit thought on it. “I can get you a motorcycle.”

Terry’s eyes brightened at the thought. She had always wanted a motorcycle. Her mother had forbidden it at home, so she had been forced to make do with the pickup truck. They probably had to retire the truck after she left.

“Have you made any progress finding Chris and Kelly?” asked Kit.

“No,” sighed Terry. “I’ve talked to British Intelligence and the O.S.S. All I found out was that they worked for the O.S.S. a while. Now, they claim they don’t even know where they are.”

“Sounds bad,” Kit frowned.

“I don’t know. Chris is probably up to something. I think me wee sister’s gotten foxy. She doesn’t stay in one place long enough to get tracked down.”

“I wonder where she got it. The rest of the family’s sure dense,” Kit grinned devilishly  
.  
“Coming from an illiterate Gallagher, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Both girls laughed. This mock feud between the Garrison and Gallagher clans had been going on for years. It was their favorite pastime.

“When’s Craig coming back?”

“Tonight,” said Terry, gulping down her drink. “I should get back. I don’t know what exact time they’ll get in. Thought I’d make something for them to eat.”

Kit shook her head, “You’re wasting your time. Those animals don’t appreciate it. The only thing they understand is a good swift kick to the head.”

“Well, Kit,” said Terry. “I wouldn’t treat an animal like that.”

Kit shrugged. “It’s your funeral. Just watch your back.”

“I watch my back, my front and my sides,” assured Terry.

Terry was asleep on the couch when the sound of male voices and booted feet woke her. She sat up and looked at the mantle clock. It was after one in the morning. The door opened and the five men dragged wearily in. They looked washed out. Shrugging out of his coat, Goniff was the first to see the girl.

“Hi,” he managed to grin.

“Hi,” returned Terry.

Craig turned and frowned. “You don’t have to wait up for us.” It was more of a command than a nicety.

“I know,” replied Terry, ignoring the tone. She had everyone’s attention now. “If anyone’s interested there’s sandwiches and beer in the kitchen.”

Goniff looked at her hopefully. “Is there really?”

“Yes.”

His face lit up, “Cripes, that’s bloody good!” He bounced back toward the kitchen.

“Just leave enough for the rest of us, yuh dumb Limey,” yelled Casino.

Craig definitely glared at his sister this time. He did not like her coddling his men. “Actor’s hand needs attention. Take care of it.”

It was on the tip of Terry’s tongue to tell him not to give her orders, but she held her peace. There was a moment’s uneasy silence as the men watched Terry’s reaction. She smiled at Actor and asked, “What did you do to it?”

“Barbed wire,” replied Actor, favoring Garrison with a look of disapproval.

“I do know about barbed wire,” said Terry. 

The tension eased and the others went into the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you get something to eat while I get the aid kit,” suggested Terry.

Actor nodded and followed the others into the kitchen. Terry went upstairs and retrieved the first aid kit. She was seated at the game table, opening up supplies, when the Italian returned with a sandwich and a beer. He sat beside her and looked kindly at her. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I can take care of it.”

“Don’t you start on me now,” admonished Terry. “It’s easier for me to do it than for you to do it one handed.”

Actor inclined his head and held his hand out to her while taking a drink of beer followed by a bite of sandwich.

Terry peeled off a grubby bandana. It was Casino’s neckerchief. “I thought he was missing something,” she remarked with amusement.

Actor chuckled. “He is useful on occasion.”

Terry looked at the jagged cut across the palm of the man’s hand. It was not too deep. She picked up cotton and wet it with alcohol from a bottle. “This is going to burn,” she warned. She swabbed the wound, impressed with his stoicism for not making a sound or movement. She knew firsthand what it felt like to have alcohol on a cut like that.

Craig’s voice could be heard from the kitchen, threatening Casino and Goniff. Terry shot a worried glance in that direction.

“He always like this?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” replied Actor. “The Warden will not stand for any nonsense. He is pretty much all business.”

“Something’s happened to him,” remarked Terry. “He wasn’t like that before.”

“He has a lot of responsibility weighing him down.”

Terry still was not happy with the situation. She finished dressing his hand and was surprised when Actor lifted hers and kissed the back of her fingers.

“Grazie,” he said.

“Prego,” she answered automatically.

Actor looked at her in surprise. “You speak Italian?”

Terry nodded. She packed the aid kit up again and headed for the stairs. Actor’s eyes followed her. She would bear watching. The more he was around her, the more he was convinced there was more to her than the quiet exterior she showed.

She reached the foot of the stairs when Chief came around the corner. He put a hand out to stop her but did not touch her. Terry looked at his dark eyes without fear.

“Thank you,” he said quietly and clearly. “It was nice.”

It was the most he had ever said to her. Usually he ignored her or just grunted. Terry smiled.

“I’m glad, Chief.”

“Yeah, it was okay,” Casino came around the corner.

The look of disgust Chief flashed him caused Terry to laugh outright. “Don’t strain yourself,” she said.

Casino looked stonily at the girl’s grinning face. He didn’t like to be laughed at.

“You act civil to my sister, Mister,” commanded Craig.

That was pushing it a little far. Casino turned with the intention of belting Garrison. Terry’s voice cut though first.

“Leave him alone, Craig. He’s not hurting anything.”

“I want you out of here!” said Garrison hotly.

Yeah, well I’m staying,” shot back Terry. She turned and went up the stairs with dignity.

The men watched in apprehension. Nobody spoke to Garrison like that and then turned their back. Craig’s eyes burned into the girl’s retreating back. He strode up the stairs after her.

Goniff looked sad, “Now she’s in trouble.”

“I don’t think so.” Three pair of eyes swung to Chief. “She can take care of herself.”

“I agree,” added Actor.

Casino shrugged, “She is a gutsy little lady.”

The gutsy little lady walked into her room and turned to face her brother. Craig shut the door behind himself. His hazel eyes flashed dark green.

“I want you out of here, Terry,” he said with restrained anger. “Go home where you belong.”

“Sorry, Craig,” replied Terry. “I’m staying.”

“I’ll find Chris and Kelly.”

“I’m not leaving,” repeated Terry. “If you kick me out just because Casino got mouthy, then they’ll end up back in stir. As this whole operation was your idea, I don’t think you want that to happen.”

Craig was floored. She was right. As much as he refused to admit it, he liked those guys. They deserved better than what they were getting. “Terry, that’s blackmail.”

“Yes.”

Craig’s shoulders slumped. “You’ve changed.”

Terry snorted, “Not near as much as you have.”

They took assessing looks at each other. Craig chuckled cynically. “All right, stay,” he said. “But don’t blame me if you get in trouble with them.”

“You’re the only one giving me trouble,” said Terry. She smiled affectionately. “You’re supposed to be my supportive big brother, not our dad or my jailer. Okay?”

He looked at her sourly, but the eyes were returning to their blue-green hazel color. Terry knew things were all right now. She tossed the aid kit on the bed and hugged her brother. He sighed and hugged her back.

Terry was awakened the next morning by a persistent knocking on her bedroom door. With a moan, she rolled over and propped one eye open. The clock read six-thirty.

“Go away,” she groaned.

“Terry, get up,” came Craig’s demanding voice in a loud whisper.

Grumbling, she rolled out of the bed and threw her robe on. Bleary-eyed, she opened the door and glared at her brother.

“What is your problem?” she asked.

“Get dressed,” said Craig, briskly. “We’re going to G-2. I have to report to Major Schaeffer.”

Terry eyed his neatly pressed uniform with distaste. “You go to G-2. I’m going back to bed. I have no desire to meet your major.”

“I’m not leaving you alone in the house with my men.”

“Don’t worry. After I get up I’m going out to work in the garden. So I won’t be in the house with your men.” Terry shut the door in his face and propped a chair under the knob.

Craig shook his head and stomped off, muttering to himself. His sister dove back under the covers and burrowed into her pillows.

When she next awakened, it was nine. The house was still peacefully quiet. She dressed and padded silently downstairs. She set the coffee going before stepping out the back door. It was a beautiful day to work outside, too nice to worry about what would happen when Craig’s men got up. Not that she was worried.

Terry was on her hands and knees, weeding, when her thoughts were interrupted by a crash from the house. Alarmed, she sprinted through the back door and across the kitchen. She skidded to a halt and cautiously stepped over a broken lamp in the dining room. Casino’s and Goniff’s raised voices reached her from the stairs. Actor was standing passively by the front door watching the argument. Terry moved up beside him, frowning.

“What’s going on . . . oh my God?” Her glance caught upon a strange sight and she stared open-mouthed.

Casino was leaning over the banister trying to reach Goniff. The blond Englishman was dangling gleefully, clad only in boxer shorts, from the crystal chandelier.

“Wait’ll I get my hands on you, yuh thievin’ little Limey!” bellered Casino.

“Goniff!” screamed Terry in outrage. “Get down from there! I spent three hours cleaning that thing, not so you could break it!”

Goniff let go and dropped with agility to the floor. Terry blocked the stairs, halting Casino’s downward plunge.

“What’s this all about?” demanded Terry.

“He stole my bacon!” yelled Casino.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” said Terry in exasperation. “I’ll make you some more. Now clean up this mess!”

“What?” asked Casino blankly.

“You heard me, Mister!” blasted Terry. “I agreed to clean. But I refuse to pick up when you decide to break all the furniture. Now I suggest you get rid of that broken lamp before the Warden gets back and breaks four necks!” She turned and stormed off into the kitchen.

There was silence in her wake as four pair of eyes followed her departure. Actor chuckled. Chief grinned at him and mouthed “Warden?” Actor shook his head. Goniff and Casino were silent. Casino came down the stairs and started to pick up the pieces of glass. The others bent to help.

A half hour later, Terry set bacon, eggs, and toast on the table. Goniff commented that at least Terry’s bacon wasn’t burned and almost stirred up a fight again. The moment was interrupted by Craig coming in the front door.

“Want breakfast?” called Terry.

“Yeah,” replied Garrison wearily.

Terry got up and gave him her seat while she went back to the kitchen. “Do your debriefings always last this long?” she asked.

“No,” said Garrison grimly. “It was the briefing that took most of the time.”

A grumbling and groaning rose from the table. Terry came to the doorway.

“Aw, come on, Warden,” griped Casino, “Not tonight already?”

“Can it, Casino,” said Craig. “I don’t like it any better than you do.”

“What are they trying to do,” asked Terry caustically, “kill you all?”

“That is the general idea,” replied Actor matter-of-factly.

Terry shook her head and disappeared back into the kitchen. She returned with Craig’s breakfast.

“Want to come out to the air base,” invited her brother unexpectedly. “Joe Gallagher’s flying us in.”

“Sure,” agreed Terry. I haven’t seen Joe in a couple years.”

That night found Terry standing beside the Packard with the men. She was oblivious to their grumblings as she studied the looming black form of the transport plane sitting on the edge of a field of B-17s. Joe Gallagher must have gone up in the world to be flying these from the biplane he and Kit used to barnstorm with.

“Hi!” Joe came around the nose of the plane.

Craig greeted him and then Terry said, “Hiya, Joe.”

Joe looked around Craig and grinned, “Terry!” He held his arms open.

Terry went to him for a hug and kiss. Joe was a couple inches shorter than Craig and dark haired, though not a redhead like his sister.

“Kit told me you were here,” said Joe. “I think you girls are crazy to come to this, but Kit I can understand.”

With mock indignation, Terry retorted, “Yeah, well anything a Gallagher can do, a Garrison can do better.”

“Including getting killed?” added Craig sarcastically.

Terry regarded him with a smile that was more of a grimace. To Joe, she said “After all, it takes a lot to put up with Sourpuss here.”

“You’ve been invited more than once to leave.”

“What and miss my greatest challenge?”

Joe laughed, “Come on, let’s get going before you two start punching and scratching.”

Craig took Terry’s arm and pulled her a little way away. In a low voice, he asked, “By the way, where’s the lamp from next to the front door?”

Truthfully, Terry said, “I don’t know what they did with it.”

“Was it in one piece?”

Terry hedged, “It really was an ugly lamp.”

Garrison glared at her, “Terry, I want you the hell out of that house when I get back!” This time he had forgotten to lower his voice. “You’re in the way. I’ve got enough to worry about without adding you to it.”

“All right, Craig,” said Terry. “I’ll be out of the house, but not out of Brandonshire.”

Craig turned on his heels and stalked off to the plane. Terry felt her teeth were going to break from being clenched so hard. She watched warily as Goniff sidled over. He wore a worried expression.

“Terry?” he said tentatively. “We didn’t want you to get in trouble because of us.”

“I know,” said Terry, relaxing a little. “Maybe it’s better this way. There’s no living with him anymore.”

“Will you keep in touch?” he asked. “You’re the only one who’s treated us like people.”

“Goniff!” Garrison’s strident voice crossed the tarmac.

They looked and found the others had gotten into the plane. Terry touched Goniff’s arm and he shot a quicksilver look at her. “We’ll work something out,” she assured him. “You can always reach me through the Fox.” On impulse, she hugged him. “Be careful.”

Goniff gave her a quick squeeze. “Thanks.” He sprinted for the plane.

Terry stood by the car as Joe started the big engines. The wind from them whipped her hair around. She faced it with her head high. It wasn’t until the sound of the departing plane faded away that she slumped.

GGG

Once in the air, Casino turned on the Lieutenant. “What’d yuh go and do that for?” he demanded. “The fight wasn’t her fault. She even made us clean it up.”

“Yeah, Warden,” chimed in Goniff. “now we 'ave to go back to bloody rations.”

“She was good to us, Warden,” added Chief.

Garrison glared at the men lined up on the metal bench along one wall of the fuselage. “This isn’t up for discussion,” he said doggedly.

“Oh, but I think it is, Lieutenant,” said Actor, with controlled anger. “Do you really think we would in any way harm that girl?”

“I said we’re not discussing it,” said garrison firmly. “She’s my sister and it’s time for her to leave.”

“She makin’ enough working the bar to live off of?” asked Chief pointedly.

Garrison hadn’t thought about that in the heat of things. And he should have. But it was too late now. He couldn’t back down to his men. He had to maintain control over them. “She doesn’t need to be living in the house with all of us. End of discussion.”

GGG

Terry slowly drove the fifteen miles to the house. This was partly because she had to drive without headlights due to the blackout, and partly because of her mood. She was wide awake despite it being one o’clock in the morning.

Reflecting on the past few days, she was surprised to find she would miss the guys. They had never really bothered her. It was Craig who had caused most of the commotion.

The next morning, Terry was packing when a car and motorcycle pulled into the driveway. She went to the door and let Kit and Shiv in.

Kit came straight to the point. “Joe told me Craig kicked you out of the house.”

“Word gets around,” said Terry, heading back up the stairs.

The others followed her up and watched her resume packing. Kit flopped on the bed. Shiv leaned against the doorjamb.

“What now?” he asked. “You going home?”

“No!” came Terry’s sharp reply. Shiv chuckled and Terry made a face. “I’m here now,” she continued. “I haven’t found Chris and Kelly yet. Besides, I don’t want to go back to the ranch yet.”

“The flat across the hall from where we live is open,” suggested Shiv. “If you’re interested of course.”

Terry turned and looked at him, shaking her head. “What would I ever do without you, Shiv?”

“Find you own place to live.”

Terry finished packing and they piled her things into the back of the car. Kit rode the motorcycle behind the car on the way back to Brandonshire.

“Shoot,” said Terry out of the blue.

“What?” asked Shiv.

“Now I won’t be able to work on the garden.”

Shiv grinned. “You really are turning into a domestic type.”

“Something wrong with that?”

“For you, yes,” replied her friend. “You should be in the thick of things. What happened to the girl who saved me from the gutters of New York?”

“She got old and tired.”

“Then why isn’t she back in Montana tending to her horses?”

“Because she isn’t ready to go marry a neighboring rancher, combine acres and raise horses and little ranchers.”

Shiv glanced at her, “Do you really know what you want?”

“No,” said Terry thoughtfully. “But whatever it is, I don’t think right now it’s back on the Bar G.”

“Stay here long enough and you may not have to worry about your future,” said Shiv. “Ever been through an air raid?”

“No,” replied Terry. “You ever been caught out in a Montana blizzard?”

Shiv laughed, “You’ve always got an answer.”

Terry liked her flat. The elderly, plump, gray-haired landlady wasn’t nosy, which would give her plenty of privacy. There wasn’t an overabundance of furniture, but she didn’t need much. Her friends helped her get settled in and then they all went to the Fox.

“Gee, I’m within walking distance of my favorite bar,” cracked Terry when she found it only a block and a half away.

“And the same distance from G-2,” threw in Kit, indicating the building across from the pub.

“Very convenient,” observed Terry.

“For what?” asked Kit sharply.

Terry looked startled. Shiv glared a warning. Shrugging, Kit tried to brush it off.

“I meant,” continued Terry, “that after spending a day trying to cut through the red tape looking for Chris and Kell, it will only be a short walk here.”

“And the drinks are on the house,” added Shiv.

The Fox was empty when they entered. Again Terry pondered on the lack of business. Kit and Shiv seemed unworried by it. There was something fishy going on, but Terry didn’t know what.

They hadn’t been in the building more than a couple minutes when the same sandy haired girl as before appeared from behind the bar. If she had been there the other times Terry had, she hadn’t shown herself. Again, Terry received a wary look.

“There’s a shipment of wine wot just come in,” said the girl.

Kit looked at Shiv who nodded for her to go. With a forced smile, Kit followed her. Terry refrained from remarking on the heavy increase in booze in a bar with few customers. She did ask Shiv who the girl was.

“Madge,” he replied. “She takes care of our paperwork. I don’t have the patience and Kit doesn’t have a head for figures.”

Kit didn’t have a head for bluffing. But Terry didn’t mention that either. They had been close friends too long for Kit to pull anything over on Terry.

After a soda, Terry excused herself and rode the motorcycle back to her flat. She spent the next week haunting G-2 for news of her siblings. The evenings were either spent tending bar at the Fox or her apartment. She made no attempt to contact Craig or his men. She wasn’t sure of how to go about doing it without raising her brother’s ire. Thus, she did not know they had not come back when they were supposed to.


End file.
